


I Might Not Be The Same, But That's Not Important

by kissesfromkrug



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Little things, M/M, Seasons, Sound Effects, Toronto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissesfromkrug/pseuds/kissesfromkrug
Summary: 12 months in a year, 12 little things, and 12 moments with Mitch that Auston never wants to forget.





	1. Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit, fictional; feel free to point out any typos. :)  
> This doesn't really have a time-frame/year, so anytime after their rookie season is a good estimate.  
> Title taken from "Same Love" by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis ft. Mary Lambert.
> 
> Inspired by this picture:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/22/e1/1a/22e11a77ff4b9d8944b2bb6cedf8f35f.jpg

• J U N E - L A U G H •

"Who do you want to win?" Mitch asks for the third time in 15 minutes.

"I told you like two minutes ago."

"But did it change?"

"Why would my opinion change in five minutes?" Auston frowns, watching Forsberg sky the puck up and over the glass for a penalty.

"Because Ottawa  _scored_ , duh," Mitch says. Brassard wins their offensive zone face-off against Sissons, and the announcers mention Burrows' goal after a scramble by the Nashville net. Rinne covers it up and scoots away from the action, and Mitch says, "Why Nashville?"

"Underdogs. Besides, Pekka has a cool name." Mitch raises an eyebrow. "No, but really, have you  _seen_ him this playoffs? He's been the best goalie in the league by far."

"Don't tell Freddie that," Mitch says softly, and Auston laughs.

"Why would I? He tried his best, but his best isn't as good as some others."

"You're so mean."

"I'm just being honest," Auston defends, leaning forward as an odd-man rush catches Mark Stone in a tough spot. "C'mon, c'mon, don't be stupid..."

"Be stupid!" Mitch shouts, giggling gleefully as the puck rings off the crossbar and is directed to neutral ice. "Be awful!" He laughs harder as Auston swats at him, continuing to playfully tease the Predators' courageous penalty kill.

"Yes!" Auston exclaims, "Woo!"

"Shut up, Yankee."

"Hey, I'm not ashamed of being American," Auston beams proudly. "Thank you, Subban!"

"He's not even American," Mitch points out, getting louder.

"Are you upset because they're tied now? I thought you hated Ottawa."

"It's Canada, I can't hate them forever. And besides, have you heard of Erik Karlsson, the best defenseman in the NHL?"

"I'm sorry, did you say Brent Burns?" Auston teases, and Mitch lunges at him and insists,

"He's not even  _American_!" Auston focuses on Mitch's weight on top of him and digs his fingers into Mitch's sides, relishing in his resulting giggles. "Stop it!" Mitch attempts to fight back as Auston says,

"Never!" By the end of the tickle fight, they're both breathing hard and laughing heartily.

"Ah, ow," Mitch winces, pressing at a spot between his shoulder and collarbone.

"You okay?" Auston immediately sits up and leans closer as Mitch moves aside the fabric of his too-loose t-shirt that Auston's pretty sure isn't actually Mitch's.

"Gotcha!" Mitch shouts, pinning Auston down and grinning in victory. Auston lets his limbs go limp, and Mitch giggles happily. "I won." 

• J U L Y - E Y E S •

Auston loves looking into people's eyes. The first things he notices about people are their eyes. Are they nervous or steady? Are they blue, brown, green, or gray? Are they big, small, or average? Are they bloodshot, cloudy, or clear? Are there any special features? Are they light or dark? He could study eyes all day if it wasn't super awkward to silently stare at people.

It's fairly safe to say that he may have a small obsession with eyes.

Mitch has the softest, bluest eyes he's ever seen, and he's made a promise to himself to tell Mitch all the time. "Mitch, you have beautiful eyes," he says absently one scorching July day when they're attempting to get a tan on a friend's yacht.

"What?"

"Your eyes," Auston says again. "They're really blue, like the lake, or the sky today." Auston lowers his sunglasses and looks over at Mitch. He isn't sure if the red on his cheeks is embarrassment or the beginning of a burn. "You might wanna put on some more sunscreen."

"Shut up." Auston doesn't stop staring at him, and finally Mitch turns and meets his gaze. Auston studies his truly gorgeous eyes intently and notices tiny specks of darker blue closer to the pupil. "Stop staring at me, you're being weird." Auston just grins and fixes his sunglasses, crossing his ankles on the end of the long beach chair.

"Want a drink?"

"Margarita?"

"Get it yourself." Mitch huffs frustratedly.

"Then why ask?"

"Not my fault I don't want to get up for you," Auston replies, trying to hide a grin.

"Would you get up for you?" Mitch asks.

"Maybe." A cloud drifts across the sun, and though there are other people on the boat, the silence between them is comfortable and warm. 

Before long, the steady rocking of the boat has nearly lulled Auston to sleep—he knows Mitch is already knocked out by his adorable little sounds—but before he drifts off, he reaches out and grabs Mitch's hand that dangles over the side of his chair. Mitch sniffs, squeezing Auston's hand and shifting closer. Maybe he isn't as asleep as Auston thought he was.

• A U G U S T - G R A S S  &  B U G S •

"Where do you wanna go?" Auston asks Mitch as they sit at their kitchen table, scarfing down twin bowls of Cheerios with strawberries.

"Nowhere, it's too hot outside," Mitch complains, a droplet of pink slipping down his chin.

"How about we go biking?"

"Too much exercise."

"Take a nap?"

"I'm not tired," Mitch sighs, licking the strawberry juice off his lips.

"A walk in the park," Auston says. It's not a question, and he knows Mitch can't refuse him now.

"Ugh,  _fine_ , if you wanna get sweaty, that's fine with me."

"You're coming too." Mitch rolls his eyes good-naturedly, spooning his last bite of cereal into his mouth. He finds his flip-flops while Auston changes into cargo shorts and an American flag tank top, both of them grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the tops of their respective dressers. He grabs the bike locks from the closet and heads outside with a small pack slung over his shoulder.

Auston forces Mitch to grab his bike, and it's a short, wordless ride to Trinity Bellwoods Park. "Let's put them here." Mitch attaches his bike to the rack next to Auston's and locks it in place. "Now pay attention to the nature."

"I have allergies," Mitch whines playfully, dodging Auston's blow. A pair of dragonflies zip in front of Auston's face, and he blinks in surprise before shooting back,

"You're allergic to crab, and that's only if you eat it. Leave your shoes by the bikes."

"What if someone steals them?"

"Who wants an old gray pair of flip-flops that need to be replaced, like, last year?" Mitch sighs mock-regretfully.

"I'm hurt that you don't like my selection of footwear. It means a lot to me."

"Shut up and listen to the birds." Auston slows his strides as they walk between the cherry blossom trees that have already lost their flowers. With each step he curls his toes in the fresh grass, sparrows and robins flitting between the trees and chirping to each other. Auston's fingers twitch, and he bites his lip as he resists the urge to hold Mitch's hand.

"That's so cool!" Mitch says with a big smile, pointing up at the CN Tower, shining a blinding silver in the sun. "Remember when we went up there?"

"Yeah," Auston mumbles, and Mitch's smile somehow widens.

"You were so scared that we were gonna fall through or something."

"Was not."

"We should do that thing where they walk on the edge—what's that called?" Auston looks over and frowns at Mitch's stupidly cute grin.

"We are  _not_ going on the EdgeWalk," Auston says firmly, and Mitch laughs. His attention is quickly turned to a butterfly that flits across their path. It lands on a flower, and Mitch kneels in the grass to take a closer look. Auston sits beside him and stretches out, eventually laying on his back and feeling the soft grass between his spread fingers. He breathes in the smell of the grass and the earth, glad that even as an NHL player, he still gets to relish in peaceful moments like this.

"Look at this ladybug," Mitch whispers, letting it crawl onto his palm from a buttercup leaf. He scoots over to Auston to show him, the little red bug running around his hand. "Isn't it—ah, look, there's more!" He reaches into the grass and lets more ladybugs find their way up into his hands, giggling. "They're so tiny!" He looks down at Auston, eyes shining and smile stretching across his face. "Aren't they so cute?" Auston stares up at Mitch's awed expression, smiling a little.

"Adorable."

 


	2. Autumn

• S E P T E M B E R - R A P •

"What're you so antsy about?" Auston asks as Mitch begins to bounce his leg uncontrollably the moment the car rolls into motion. Mitch just stares out his window and shrugs. "Would it help if we turned on the radio?"

"Maybe." At a stop sign, Auston looks over at Mitch and takes his hands off the wheel.

"Babe." Mitch bites his lip and stares down at his lap, cheeks tinting pink. They don't use cutesy names too often. "Is it about training camp?"

"What if they send me down this year?" Mitch blurts. "What if they put me with the Marlies 'cause they don't think I can—"

"They have absolutely no reason to 'put' you anywhere but here," Auston says firmly. "You've earned your place in the league and everyone knows it, and if they don't, they can go fuck themselves." Mitch doesn't reply. "You're an amazing person, Mitch, just look at yourself—sweet, funny, talented, attractive, genuine—believe me, the entirety of _Canada_ would be heartbroken if you weren't in the NHL next year."

"That's not true," he mumbles, and a car honks behind them, reminding Auston that they actually have to be somewhere.

"Even if they sent you down, you'd try your hardest to get back, wouldn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm not guaranteed—"

"The answer is yes, so shut up and stop being grumpy. You'll make it." Auston turns the radio up high and focuses on the road ahead. Mitch fiddles with the buttons and his phone, and all of a sudden a familiar tune begins to bleed through the speakers. "No, stop, don't—"

"'Hit 'em with the four like Auston Matthews'!" Mitch sings along loudly, turning up the bass and opening his window. Auston purses his lips, pretending not to be impressed that Mitch actually knows the lyrics.

"I get it now," Auston interrupts, but it's no use.

"'Youngest in the league, yes I'm ballin', '" Mitch continues, unashamed of the attention from the few people walking on the sidewalks. "Don't you like rap?"

"It's not my absolute favorite thing in the world to hear my name repeated over and over for five minutes." Auston adds after a second, "Nothing against the song, though, it's pretty good."

"And it's three and a half minutes, actually." Auston sighs and goes quiet, listening to Mitch's attempt at rap. He looks over for a split second, seeing Mitch's arms quickly cross over his body as he pretends to reenact the music video. He glances over at Auston, raising an eyebrow and smiling through the lyrics. All it takes is a simple song to cheer Mitch up.

If only everything was so simple as Mitch.

"'Ice on my neck is a hockey rink, ice on my chest is the time you take'." When the three and a half minutes are finally over, Auston reaches for the radio again. Mitch smacks his hand and puts on Kanye West.

"Are you serious?" Auston asks, grinning nonetheless.

"You like it, I like it, why not?" Mitch answers cheekily, and, well, Auston sees his point. He starts the song as a solo, Mitch watching with amusement. On the third repeat of the chorus, he makes his appearance.

"'Lamborghini mercy—'" Auston starts.

"'Swerve—'"

"'Your chick she so thirsty—'"

"'Swerve—'"

"'I'm in that two-seat Lambo wit' yo girl, she tryna jerk me.'" Mitch goes quiet, eyes on Auston's lap despite Auston's hand waving around as his mouth perfectly wraps around every syllable. "'I work them long nights, long nights to get a pay day—finally got paid, now I need shade and a vacay.'" Mitch helps Auston on the chorus, mouthing along and mock-dancing to the best of the space he has, but mostly lets his friend sing.

"I make it rain, she want more showers—rain, pourin', all my cars is foreign—all my broads is foreign, money tall like Jordan." Mitch finishes off the chorus with the two of them switching parts, and by the time they arrive at the MasterCard Centre, they're back to their usual laughing and teasing.

Mitch has nothing to worry about as long as he has Auston around.

• O C T O B E R - C U D D L E S •

It's 1:30 in the morning in Tampa Bay, and Mitch can't sleep. For some reason, they roomed him with Zach on their southern road trip. Nothing against him, it's just...no one can compare to Auston. Willy is rooming with him, but he'd probably be okay if Mitch came in and stayed with Auston. Maybe. He doesn't know Willy's current situation with Kappy, but either way, no one on the team would be too surprised. They all probably think Mitch and Auston are fucking or dating or something, anyway.

He rolls over and grabs his phone. 

> _r u up??_

Auston responds almost immediately.

> _yea why?_
> 
> _can i sleep w u? is willy there?_
> 
> _he went to "kassu"s room i think_
> 
> _who was k_ _as with?_
> 
> _idk_
> 
> _but like_

Mitch bites his lip and finishes his thought a little nervously. 

> _r u sure i can come tho_
> 
> _of course! im a little lonely ;)_
> 
> _b there in a sec_

Mitch swings his legs off the bed and pads to the door, making sure the door closed quietly before walking down the hallway. He freezes as he remembers something.  

> _wait aus_
> 
> _what_
> 
> _what room r u in??_
> 
> _314_
> 
> _let me in_

Auston opens the door to see a weary, shirtless Mitch waiting for him, a tiny stuffed penguin in hand. He smiles softly and steps aside, Mitch rubbing his eye as he walks to the bed closest to the window and collapses on it. "How'd you know it was mine?"

"You hate being close to the door," Mitch mumbles, wriggling around to get the covers over him. Auston slowly approaches the bed and pushes at Mitch's shoulder.

"Stop being a starfish and make some room for me." He doesn't move, so Auston crawls on top of him and squishes the breath out of him.

"Oh my god, get off," Mitch gasps, flailing his arms until Auston lets up. "I couldn't breathe, holy shit."

"You chose to come here." Auston slips under the soft covers and hands Mitch his penguin.

"Thanks." He glances up at Auston, who can't help but lean down and kiss him as he murmurs,

"No problem." Mitch lets Auston adjust their positions and pull him back to his chest, Auston enveloping him with his arms and lacing their legs together. Being the little spoon, Mitch lets his breathing settle until their chests rise and fall together. He takes a handful of the soft sheets and pulls it up to his chin.

"I love you, Aus," Mitch says, so quiet that Auston almost misses it.

"I love you more."

"Sappy."

"You're into it." Mitch reaches a hand down and squeezes Auston's that rests on his chest.

"You know I am."

• N O V E M B E R - L I G H T S •

"Why are there Christmas lights up already?" Auston questions with a frown as he walks down a main road with Willy, Kas, and Mitch following behind him.

"Get in the spirit, Aus, it's Christmastime!" Mitch says happily.

"It's November 12th."

"Yeah, Christmastime," Willy adds. "You can't put up decorations the day before."

"But we don't need them a month and a half before," Auston insists, but the other three's opinion drowns him out.

"Get in the spirit," Mitch repeats, looking up at the streetlights. Christmas lights are weaved around anything and everything possible, and although Auston admits it is beautiful, it's  _too fucking early for Christmas_.

"I want some fudge," Kas announces.

"Good for you."

"Stop being pissy, Ajuice," Willy says, falling in step with Auston and knocking into his shoulder. "Just 'cause it's 'too early for Christmas' doesn't mean we can't have fun with it."

"I'm not being pissy, you're being irrational," Auston says, firm in his decision.

"I'll buy you some sweets," Mitch says, but Auston doesn't take the bait and stays quiet. "C'mon guys, let's go buy grumpy something to cheer him up." The two Europeans agree, and Auston is dragged along to a chocolate store. The smells are so enticing, and he eventually takes up Mitch on his offer and gets a giant double-dipped ice cream bar.

As he eats it he glances over at Willy, who's poking Kas and standing in front of a large box of chocolates. Auston steps in and reminds them of the fact that they can't, in fact, eat all the candy treats in the store. They both look mildly disappointed but stick to one box of chocolate or fudge a person.

Outside, it's gotten chillier, and Mitch pulls the mask they used for the Winter Classic up over his face. Auston pulls his hat down over his ears and glances over at Mitch, who's carrying a chocolate box under his left arm. Kas and Willy are debating about whether chocolate or fudge is better, and Mitch turns around for a moment and provides his opinion, which is, in Willy's words, 'completely irrelevant because you're not European'.

They turn onto a side street as a shortcut and to avoid pedestrian traffic, and Auston blurts out, "Do you wanna—" Mitch grabs onto his hand and swings it back and forth, smiling at him under the mask.

"Aww," Willy coos, and Auston's glad that the cold wind already turned his face red.

"Shut up, you're just jealous." Willy grins and plants a kiss on Kas' lips, effectively stopping his chocolate rant. Mitch pulls down his mask for a moment and cat-calls, to Willy's amusement, and Auston wonders why the hell he became friends with weirdos. Then again, it  _does_  make life more interesting.

Auston looks up at the sky, stars beginning to emerge as the sun sets behind a thick row of fluffy cumulus clouds. Although the streetlights are beautiful in their own right, nothing can really compare to the immense beauty of the night sky. He lets go of Mitch's hand as they emerge into the public eye again, hearing a huff from next to him. "What? You know we can't—"

"But we could." Auston looks to Kas, who raises an eyebrow.

"Your choice." Auston blushes and shakes his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. Mitch purses his lips, and as they approach a lonely park bench he shoves his box into a stunned Willy's hands.

"My choice," he says, tugging down the mask and grabbing Auston's face.

"Mitch—" Mitch presses a firm kiss to Auston's mouth, pulling back to judge his reaction. Auston turns to see if anyone noticed. There are no gasps, no shocked faces or pointed fingers, just people wandering around and taking in the scenery. No one noticed.

His shoulders relax as he breaths out a sigh, a misty exhalation visible in the biting air. He looks back to Mitch, soft light behind him casting shadows on his youthful face and giving him the impression of an angel with a halo. Auston takes the time to stare, and Mitch pokes his cheek.

"Weirdo." Auston smiles and ducks his head, and Kas and Willy 'ooh' again.

"Someone's in love," Willy half-teases in a sing-song voice.

"Damn right I am." Mitch's bright blue eyes are wide, and Auston studies them as dust motes float down from somewhere, illuminated by the Christmas lights. Mitch finally smiles back, realizing it's not a joke. He takes his chocolate/fudge box back from Willy and falls in step with Auston.

"Me too," he whispers. Auston's cheeks can't get any redder.


	3. Winter

• D E C E M B E R - I C E •

They're on the ice all the time, whether for practice, games, and even sometimes for fun. Auston's been skating for over a dozen years, ice shouldn't be anything special to him anymore.

But it is.

Every now and then, something unforgettable happens that he stores in his forever-memory, but it's not just that. Every time he laces his skates and steps on the ice with Mitch is special, no matter where the rink or what time.

He remembers a time that he wasn't feeling too well, but he fought through practice just because Mitch wanted to go out for breakfast afterwards and he didn't want to disappoint. Another time, he got hit with Morgan's slap-shot on the ankle, but finished practice with a huge, purple bruise just because he wanted to stay with Mitch. He ended up getting laughed at when Gards caught him staring at Mitch.

He has a feeling that his Mitch feelings are getting to be a bit overwhelming.

_schick schick schick_ _sck tsss_

"Yo bud!" Auston starts and drops the water bottle in his hand.

_thunk_

He glares at Brownie, who makes a stupid face as he laughs.

"What's your deal?"

"Let's  _go_ , Matts, be my partner?" Auston's eyes immediately dart around the rink to find Mitch, who's laughing and play-fighting Morgan near the corner boards. Gards zooms over to them and jumps on Morgan's back, and Auston chuckles. "Oh my god."

"Shut up," Auston says automatically.

"You wanna go be with your lover-boy or what?" Brownie baits. Auston keeps his gaze steady on him, and eventually Brownie has to look away.

"If you don't shut up I just might," he answers, adding an odd sound—he didn't even _know_ he could make that noise—onto the end of it just to ease the awkwardness.

"You're so weird."

"Shouldn't have come over here then." Auston then goes quiet through the drills that the assistant coaches lead them through, his ears doing the most work, as his hands have already memorized the shape of the stick. The scrape of razor sharp blades on freshly cut ice has always been his favorite sound, and he tunes back in to the sounds without missing a single errant pass from Brownie, who's laughing again, probably about something stupid.

_schick schick schick schick schick tssssss_

Auston looks up to see Mitch leaning on his stick about four feet from him, taking a sip of Gatorade from the bench. He nods at Mitch when he looks up, but Mitch just sticks out his blue tongue and charges him. "Oh fuck." Auston barely has time to brace himself before he's tackled to the hard ice, Mitch shouting in his ear about food or something.

"Incoming!" Brownie shouts.

_thwack_

"A little late for that, bud!"

" _Guys_!" Auston looks over just as a zooming puck hits his visor square on and snaps it. He's so stunned that at first, he doesn't even feel the blood dripping from the deep cut in his face.

 _sck sck schick schick schick schick tss_ _—_ _thump_

"Trainer!" He hears someone yell as his ears slowly return to normal and cease their ringing.

"Aus, are you okay?" He opens his eyes and sees Mitch perched over him, eyes wide and frantic. "Answer me, buddy, are you okay?"

"Fine," Auston slurs, slowly shaking off his gloves and putting a hand to his face. It's wet—really wet, and he looks at his red fingers with a frown. "That's not good."

_schick schick schick schick ssssss_

"We gotta get you—" Mitch starts, but the trainer is already by his side.

"Can you stand up?" He asks, and Auston squints, gasping at the stinging pain.

"Maybe?" Mitch begs to help, so him and the trainer help Auston to his feet and to the locker room.

_sck sck sck sck tss tssss_

Auston can hear Mitch repeating "I'm so sorry" in background, but his head is spinning and his face is bleeding and he's having a hard time thinking straight. As the trainer removes Auston's helmet he tells Mitch to go. He refuses, and Auston mumbles, "Let-let him stay. Family."

"No, Matts, he's not your family," the trainer says, but Auston looks over at Mitch, one eye clouded by blood, and announces,

"Yeah he is!"

"What is he talking about?" The trainer asks as he gets a wet cloth to try and stop the bleeding.

"I, uh," Mitch says elegantly, trying to stay calm. "He's just a little loopy, it's nothing, just let me see if he'll be okay."

"We have to do the concussion protocol as soon as I get this stitched up, it's a pretty deep wound. The visor split in half just like that, you said?"

"Yeah, it happened so fast, but the next thing I knew he was bleeding and I didn't know what to do."

"Good thing Morgan is on top of things," the trainer murmurs as Auston continues to babble nonsense about family. "Future captain?"

"Oh, totally."

"Gonna marry, then we're family," Auston says in the momentary silence that follows, Mitch's cheeks a bright red. The trainer, to his credit, finishes stitching up the wound before asking about it.

"He, uh, we're, um," Mitch stammers. "Uh—"

"Boyfriend!" Auston provides helpfully, and the trainer puts a packet of ice over the wound. Auston swears it makes a hissing sound, like when water drips onto a hot stove.

_pssss_

"That's very nice, now I need you to hold this here," he says. "It just missed slicing open your eye."

"Love me!" Auston makes grabby hands at Mitch, who gives him a fist-bump.

"You going to tell anyone about you two?" The trainer murmurs to him. Mitch bites his lip and shakes his head.

"Not yet."

_schick schick schick tssss_

• J A N U A R Y - S N A C K S •

Auston shifts as he feels a heavy weight on his shoulder, cracking open an eye to find Mitch cuddled into his side with eyes on the television. Snow is falling steadily outside their window, Iron Man playing on the screen. Auston doesn't know how he managed to fall asleep, making sure he's paying attention to Tony Stark.

 _Bye week is a good idea_ , he thinks, casually wrapping an arm around Mitch. He buries his face in Auston's neck for a moment, breathing in the scent of popcorn and fading cologne, which shouldn't smell good but totally does.

"I wanna put chocolate on the popcorn," Mitch mumbles. He doesn't move, so Auston clarifies,

"You have to get it then. That sounds gross."

"It's super good though!"

"Get it and prove it." Mitch slowly unravels himself and pads to the kitchen. Auston doesn't know how he managed to take up so little space, long limbs and awkwardness included.

A few minutes later, Mitch comes back with a full bowl of popcorn, a bottle of chocolate syrup, a bag of potato chips, an empty bowl, and a box of crackers. "What's this?" Auston laughs. "Snack party? Anti-diet hour?"

"Don't criticize me for indulging in your unhealthy needs," Mitch says, sitting on the floor and arranging his things. "So you go like this—" He uncaps the syrup and drizzles it over the popcorn. He hands the bowl to Auston without looking at him, dumping chips and the Wheat Thins in the empty bowl and mixing them together with his hands.

"Are you seriously—"

"Hey, I washed my hands like, five minutes ago, calm down, I won't poison you." Auston rolls his eyes and looks down at the bowl in his hands. He hesitantly picks up a chocolate-coated piece of popcorn and sets it on his tongue. "My god, Aus, it's not poisonous, I  _told_ you that!"

"Shut up." Auston hates to admit it, but the popcorn is actually kinda good with chocolate. He takes a handful and crunches on it with eyes on the tv.

"Good?"

"No."

"Liar." Auston hides a smile, knowing he has chocolate on his face. He takes another few pieces of popcorn and savors the sweetness, ignoring Mitch's proud smile. He rolls a piece around his tongue, studying how the salt and sugar mix to create something that's actually delicious. He couldn't eat the whole bowl, but it's definitely better than he thought.

"Don't tell me you're putting chocolate on Wheat Thins," he warns Mitch without looking down.

"Not yet, but good idea." Auston puts down the popcorn bowl and snatches the chocolate syrup out of his hands, putting some more on the popcorn before tossing the container to the other side of the couch.

" _My_ chocolate covered snacks," he grins, and Mitch puts down his bowl of snacks and climbs back onto the couch. Well, more like onto Auston. With the bowl by Auston's side, Mitch straddles his thighs, taking a piece of popcorn and grinning.

"Open wide," he says, and when Auston sticks out his tongue, Mitch puts the popcorn on it, keeping constant eye contact. Before Auston can move, Mitch leans in for a deep kiss, tasting the salty-sweet tang on his own tongue. "Tasty." He's got a look in his eyes that makes Auston shove the popcorn bowl away from harm and bring Mitch in for another kiss.

His hands slide around and link behind Mitch's ass, holding him in place as his tongue darts between Auston's lips again. Mitch tightly grips his shoulders, scooting even further up his lap and making sure Auston feels how into it he is already. Auston pushes up and bites Mitch's lip, tilting his head with his nose and nipping at his neck. "Fuck, Aus," Mitch pants, falling backwards onto the couch and tugging Auston with him.

"Shit!" The popcorn bowl was right in their path, and now everything inside is on Mitch's head. Auston sits back on his heels, unable to stop laughing as Mitch crunches on the popcorn surrounding him.

"Pretty good, wouldn't you say?" Auston can't catch his breath to reply—especially not when he's being assaulted with popcorn kernels.

• F E B R U A R Y - S N O W •

Mitch is petting Auston's hair when he wakes up in the morning in his room. Auston doesn't ask why Mitch decided to join him. He doesn't mind—in fact, he feels quite the opposite.

"Morning," he says, still drowsy as Mitch leans down for a soft kiss.

"We have optional practice this morning, but I don't wanna go."

"I think we should—"

"We're not going," Mitch says firmly, ruffling Auston's bedhead and sliding out of bed. "C'mon, I wanna play in the snow."

"Absolutely not, I am _not_ —"

"You're coming outside, or I'll bring the snow inside and you're gonna clean it up." Auston mumbles complaints to himself about the weather, and Mitch makes a comment about hot weather. He stares as Auston gets clothes from his drawers, correcting him when he tries to put on a t-shirt.

"Shut  _up_ ," Auston says, exchanging it for a long sleeve Blue Jays shirt. "Let me figure it out, I can get dressed by myself."

"I want you to hurry up!" Auston makes a silent promise to move as slow as possible from there on out. "Oh my fucking  _god_ , Aus—" Mitch steps forward and kisses Auston hard, biting at his lips with hands at his waist. Auston immediately drops the jeans and pulls Mitch to his body, hands roaming over his thin yet strong frame. One of Mitch's hand slides around and grabs Auston's ass, and he jerks his hips forward, groaning happily.

"What the fuck?" Auston whines as Mitch slides out of his grasp, slippery as an eel.

"If you hurry up maybe there's more where that came from!" Auston curses and shoves on his jeans and a pair of socks, grabbing his winter jacket and hat and practically jumping into his winter boots. Inside the jacket pocket there's a pair of black gloves, and he doesn't even wait to put them on before running outside, looking around for Mitch.

"Mitchell?" He calls, and there's a huff from behind a tree.

"Don't call me that." Auston balls a clump of snow in his hands and chucks it at the tree. Mitch shrieks in surprise, darting out from behind the tree and launching one back at Auston. It starts a full on war, Auston building up a pile behind Mitch's old tree with Mitch hiding around the corner of their shared house.

Auston's gotten hit in the face more times than he'd admit by the time they're worn out—which takes two full hours in the falling snow—although Mitch is stinging in more places than just what little part of his face is exposed to the frigid, wet weather. Auston has a damn hard throw.

"I hate you," Mitch pants as they're stripping off their wet outer clothes in the doorway.

"Hate because I'm great," Auston shoots back, his jeans now included in the pile of wet things in front of them.

"Seriously?" Mitch bundles the clothes up in his arms and carries them to the bathroom, hanging them over the door and towel racks. "They'll smell shitty if you don't," he explains, and Auston rolls his eyes.

"Like I didn't know that."

Several minutes later, when they're changed into dry pants and their hair is minimally wet, Mitch curls up on the chair and puts the feet up. Auston squeezes in beside him, but instead of reaching for the remote or his phone, he stares out the window. It leads to their modest porch, which has around eight inches of snow piled on it—and it's supposed to snow the rest of the day and into the next.

"I kinda want food," Mitch says, leaving the rest of the thought to Auston's imagination. He's pretty sure the reason Mitch isn't shoving him to the floor is that he enjoys his warmth. "But you're cuddly and soft so I don't wanna give that up for a waffle."

They sit in silence, the wind beginning to howl and the wind-chimes clanging louder than ever. The snowflakes are huge—or maybe they're just falling in clumps—but either way, Auston wouldn't change a thing.


	4. Spring

• M A R C H - L A N G U A G E •

It's a Tuesday like any other Tuesday, mostly. A rough practice in the morning, seeing as they're hovering right around a wildcard spot—then the rest of day free. Of course, the weather's still the same as it has been for three months, but Mitch doesn't mind. Auston does.

"I don't have thin skin, you idiot, I grew up in the desert!" He insists when Mitch suggests going without his winter coat, then insults him when he refuses. "We should go see a movie or something that doesn't involve being outside." He looks down as he adjusts his belt around his waist, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

"Like you don't love nature," Mitch scoffs fondly while watching him.

"Not right now, no, I'd appreciate some real spring weather, like, last week."

"Suck it up." Auston makes a face at him and grabs his bulky coat and hat.

"No."

"Tell your mother that I'm a better child and she should totally trade up," Mitch says. "Hers doesn't treat his friends right."

"Why would I tell her lies?"

"Stop bickering, children, you're making dad upset," Willy says, nodding towards Morgan.

"He's not even  _listening_ to us," Mitch protests, but it's no use. Auston shoves him out of the locker room, and on the ride home Mitch makes sure to sing as loudly and obnoxiously as possible over the radio. Auston, despite himself, only thinks it's endearing as fuck.

" _Mama mia, god help us_ ," Auston murmurs in Spanish as Mitch then begins to shout over the music about plants or some shit. Mitch's mouth abruptly stops moving, and he presses the button on the radio to mute it. "You look stupid," Auston says without looking over, knowing that Mitch's jaw is slack with awe or surprise—he can never really tell which one.

" _What_ did you say?" He finally asks, half to himself.

"Shut up." Auston is embarrassed, but his cheeks thankfully don't betray him. He only speaks in English in front of his teammates to avoid these scenarios. "Let it go, Mitch."

"Say something else." Okay,  _now_ he's blushing.

"Let it fucking  _go_."

"It was  _hot_ , say something else!" Mitch insists loudly, having not moved his gaze from Auston as he holds his phone up. "Come  _on_ , Aus, I'm not making fun of you, I swear, I want to—"

" _Will you shut the fuck up_ _?_ " He interrupts grumpily, and Mitch beams, telling him unashamedly,

"Gonna use that to jerk off sometime."

"You don't even know what I said, you idiot," Auston says, feeling something hot simmer in his gut. "Besides, I sound pissed off."

"I don't even give a shit about what you said," Mitch says proudly. "All I care about is that it's you talking in Spanish and sounding hot as fuck."

"Are you done?"

"Say something else like...I dunno, say something hot." Auston licks his lips, and he can see Mitch still holding up his phone out of the corner of his eye. He tongues at them again, biting the lower one teasingly.

" _Suck my dick, Marns, I know you love it._ " Mitch giggles, and if he'd been sitting on a bed or couch, he would most definitely have fallen off.

"Translation?" Auston smirks.

"When we get home." Mitch is nearly vibrating out of his skin by the time Auston stops the car.

 

• A P R I L - S U P P O R T •

"What do you think about the You Can Play thing?" Mitch asks Auston, leaning his chin on his teammate's shoulder as Auston watches YouTube videos of plane crashes. "Also, why the fuck are you watching those?"

"Makes me feel even luckier that we survived when we land." Mitch frowns.

"You didn't answer my first question." Auston pauses the video.

"What about it?"

"Should we do it?" Auston sighs and removes an earphone.

"Why would you want to?" He asks, and Mitch gives him the 'are you really this stupid?' look. "Okay, yeah, I know, but like...now, or what? Soon?"

"Soon," Mitch answers. "And why not?"

"I just—"

"Or the Pride Tape? We could convince some of the guys to tape their sticks one game."

"It's almost playoffs, Mitch," Auston reminds him unnecessarily.

"Or practice, whatever. I think Kappy and Willy would do it." He looks down the aisle to see Willy wheezing uncontrollably, most definitely at one of Kappy's sarcastic comments.

"I think they would," Auston agrees. "But—"

"I swear to god, if you ask me why one more time, I'll punch you."

"Warn me first so I actually know you're hitting me." Mitch really does hit him this time, a soft thwack to the arm. "Wow, dangerous."

"Anyway." Mitch makes a face at him before continuing, "I think it would be good to get the memo out that we support all hockey players before we, you know..."

"'You know'?" Auston scoffs. "You mean, before we tell the world? We haven't even told the  _team_ , Willy and Kappy are the only ones that know."

"You guys aren't that subtle," Brownie says from the row behind them, and Mitch turns around.

"Subtlety is my greatest strength, what are you _talking_ about?" Brownie grins, but Auston isn't amused as he too looks back and questions quietly,

"Wait, you knew? Know, I mean?" 

"Yeah, dude, you guys are kinda obvious."

"Obvious how?" Brownie looks around. "Everyone but Willy and Kappy is asleep, I think."

"So you thought," Brownie says. "But here I am."

"Shut up," Mitch says, the smile fading off his face as he leans closer. "How are we obvious?"

"You hang off him like you're an extra limb or something," Brownie starts, and Mitch bites his lip. "No one ever sees one of you without the other, and if that happens to occur, then we're in Worlds. You sit next to each other on the bench, and you—" He pointedly looks at Mitch. "—pout every time he's on ice without you. You almost always room together—the only times you don't are when management handles it, and you're both touchy-feely—yes, Matts, you too."

Mitch and Auston are speechless after Brownie's speech, and he cracks a small smile. "So what's this about coming out to the team, again?"

"Does everyone know?" Auston finally croaks, his voice hoarse for some odd reason.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So we can, like, just announce it and everyone will be exchanging bet money and shouting 'I knew it' and stuff?" Mitch asks. Brownie chuckles.

"We didn't have to bet on you two." Auston looks at the ground as Mitch says,

"Is—is everyone okay with it?"

"As far as I can tell, yes, and if they're not, they'll live," Brownie answers. He glances next to him as Zach stirs, readjusting his head on the pillow against the window.

"Fantastic." Auston glances over at Mitch, unsure if he's being sarcastic.

"Would you all—would you guys do the Pride Tape one practice?"

"Anyone who wouldn't want to is a coward," Brownie proclaims confidently. "I would do it. Anything for my boys." He ruffles both of their hair, ignoring their matching protests.

"You've got, like, three years on us," Mitch protests, batting his hand away.

"Shut up Mitch."

"And the lovers are at it again with the bickering," Brownie sighs, dodging Mitch's smack. "Hey, I support it, dude, don't bite the hand that helps ya come out."

"That is  _not_ how it goes."

• M A Y - K I S S E S •

They've gone farther in the playoffs than last year, but still fell short. It hurts more than anything, but it's gotta be forgotten eventually, they have to move on if they want to move up. Especially Mitch. He has a hard time forgetting things like these.

"I left everything out there and all I got was nothing," he whispers, slamming his stick against the ground and snapping it in half. Auston sets his hand on Mitch's knee as time ticks down on their season. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1—game over, Columbus wins Game 6 and the series, onto the Conference Final.

"You had an amazing game," Auston tells him, lips brushing his ear as they make their way back onto the ice for hand shakes.

"Good game," Mitch tells each player, his bright yet forced smile not matching the dullness in his eyes. "Good game, good game, good game."

Auston stops to talk to the guys he played with in black and orange a few years back, sharing encouraging comments and tight hugs before moving on. "Good game, good game." Everyone pays special attention to Bob, who managed a shutout for the third time in 11 games. "Vezina?" Auston suggests, and Bob chuckles. 

"Maybe? Or maybe not. Others are very good too." Auston manages a small smile and moves on to the Columbus coaches. He can't ignore the guilt and disappointment welling up inside him as he skates to center ice. Morgan wraps him in a bone crushing, wordless embrace that express his feelings loud and clear. Auston, although surprised, hugs him back with the same tame fierceness.

"Captain," Auston says, choking on the simple word. Morgan doesn't answer right away, pulling back with a hint of tears in his blue eyes.

"Leader," he corrects, poking Auston's chest. "We can all be leaders." He raises his stick once the last of the Blue Jackets have departed the ice, and the rest of the team copies him as the crowd cheers and towels are waved around.

 _We failed them_ , Auston thinks, letting his stick fall.  _We failed. I failed. We're done. It's over._

Mitch pushes himself through the crowd of white jerseys to Auston's side, ducking under his arm and leaning his head on his shoulder. "Love you," Auston murmurs once they're in the locker room, kissing the top of Mitch's helmet.

"I can't say much, boys," Babs says once they're all seated. Auston looks around the room at all the defeated faces. Some are angry, some frustrated, some doleful, and some blank, brains refusing to register the truth. Mitch manages to have every emotion all at once. "I can't say much for the goalless performance, it's disappointing—but I can say that this is the most successful team here in Toronto in a long while. A long while."

Auston tries his hardest to listen, he really does, but Mitch's warm presence beside him, making himself as small as possible, takes up most of his attention. Showers are silent after the media makes their way through—Auston hates losing so much, but talking about it is even worse—and so is their ride home together.

"Aus," Mitch breathes as Auston locks the front door behind them. Auston looks down at him, and Mitch surges up to kiss him. He lets Auston guide them to his bedroom, gently laying Mitch down on the soft sheets. They each know what the other wants without having shared a word, and that's what Auston finds so scary about this thing, this  _love_ he has for and with Mitch. They just... _know_ each other.

Mitch tilts his head to deepen the kiss, hands on Auston's cheeks to hold him steady. It's not about the sex, if it even comes to it. Auston makes sure his knees are firmly planted on either side of Mitch's waist, a hand trailing upwards from his waist to his shoulder, wrapping around his neck in an oddly comforting gesture.

They kiss slowly and surely for what seems hours, Mitch biting down every now and then to show Auston he isn't fragile and shouldn't be treated so. Auston knows. He knows the feeling of losing it all; it doesn't come easy, but as they say, before you know how to win, you have to know how to lose.

He doesn't realize how hard he's gotten until Mitch shifts, his thigh pressing up between Auston's. He can feel Mitch against his own leg, the kissing growing more hurried as they grind against each other. Mitch pants onto Auston's face for a moment, exchanging soft moans into each other's mouths as they approach the edge together. 

"Fuck, Mitch, I love you," Auston gasps, and Mitch jerks under him and groans.

"I love you, Aus. No matter what."

"No matter what," he agrees, flopping to the side and licking his bruised lips. "Always?" Mitch cracks a smile and finishes.

"And forever." He links his fingers with Mitch's, staring into his half-shut, beautiful blue eyes. Auston loves looking into eyes—especially Mitch's.

They can clean up later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the positive feedback! I really like writing this ship even tho I don't know too much about the Leafs...

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tags as I write the other seasons. :D


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